


Accidents Happen

by intergalxtic



Category: Firebringer - Team StarKid
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dance, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Dialogue Heavy, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, F/F, Light Angst, Self-Indulgent, yes they are dance teachers now whaddya know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-06
Updated: 2020-11-06
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:34:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27414328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/intergalxtic/pseuds/intergalxtic
Summary: She’s just finished packing up, when she can hear music coming from the back. As she approaches to the door, she sees Jemilla. Dancing. Alone. What?Then it hit her. This is the first time she has seen Jemilla dance, ever. God, she is simply amazing. She could be a professional.But she isn't.
Relationships: Jemilla/Zazzalil (Firebringer)
Comments: 13
Kudos: 29





	Accidents Happen

If there was one thing Jemilla loved more than watching people dancing to her choreography, it’s doing it herself. She loved the way the music filled her ears and flowed through her body. She cherishes every count and clears her mind of any woes. Like Clark, her old partner. 

The other day he showed up unannounced at her own studio, offering masterclasses and assistance. This felt like a stab in the back to Jemilla, especially after she’d been through because of him. Perhaps she is envious of his deserved success. He had apologised profusely for the incident, perhaps she shouldn’t be mad anymore. This revelation doesn’t rid the venom in her voice when she greeted him.

She knew it was out of character to be so figrid and unwelcoming; Zazzalil stared at her funny the rest of the day. Self-conscious and vulnerable as she felt that day, she didn’t give in to his offers.  _ Shudder. _

Zazzalil had a half-stab at trying to get Jemilla to seize the opportunity she had been presented with, to take a week off. In her eyes, that would be a week of important time wasted. 

With every breath, she feels her limbs become loose and wild, letting herself roam free in the studio.  _ This is great, I’ll have to remember this for later. _ Her arms swoop up and around, her leg following. It feels great, just being able to let go for once. 

It doesn’t last long, however. She still has to finish choreographing her piece. So she finds the song she spent hours choosing, and plays it, ideas flooding her head instantly. She crosses her legs into fifth position.

_ Releve, e schappe, e schappe, releve fifth, come down.  _

_ Gallop step grande jete, run around, step into demi-classical.  _

_ Petit jete, petit jete, ensemble.  _

Jemilla finds herself lost in the music again. She doesn’t mind, though. She isn’t quite full out, not quite marking either.

_ Degage, prepare, en dehors pirouette, land in fifth, releve, bourree, run off stage. _

_ Chase, pas de bourree, glissade, pas de chat. Pas de waltz, pas de waltz, balance, balance.  _

Even if she is marking, she holds her head high and strong. She doesn’t even realise she’s being watched.

* * *

Zazzalil dismisses her class a bit early today, taking a deep breath. Jemilla had been pushing them to their limits recently, with extra rehearsals and training in the lead up to performance season. Zazzalil isn’t a fan of this new schedule, she can see it in the students faces. They’re all so exhausted. Everyone is. 

Shutting off all the lights in the top studio, she works her way down, cleaning up a little bit of the mess to take off some of the work for Jemilla. She’s probably been the most stressed of all. She’s been running around like a headless chicken lately, finding costumes, applying to comps, and finding recital venues. While Zazzalil might not agree with some of her methods, she does care about her, and desperately wants her to relax. 

She’s just finishing her own packing up, when she can hear music coming from the back.  _ Damn, Jemilla’s still got them going? She is insane. _ Zazzalil storms up to the door, ready to dismiss whoever is there and give Jemilla a good slap, because she is out of her damn mind.

But when she gets to the door, she doesn’t see fifteen tired teenagers struggling to stay on their pointe shoes. Instead she sees Jemilla. Dancing. Alone. What?

Zazzalil watches intently, mesmerised by her beautiful technique. Even though there is no audience, she has presence. Her arms float gracefully through the air, emphasised on the simple steps. Then it hit her. This is the first time she has seen Jemilla dance, ever. God, she is simply amazing. She could be a professional. 

The music eases and Jemilla steps into her pose, falling out of it almost immediately after. Zazzalil bursts into applause, a huge smile plastered on her face. Jemilla whips around startled, her face softening into a blush when she sees who it is.

“You looked beautiful,” Zazzalil compliments, making Jemilla blush harder.

“I thought you went home?” Jemilla asks.

“I was about to, but then I heard music.” Zazzalil crosses her arms, taking a step closer. “I thought you were still rehearsing, I came to slap some sense into you.”

“Wha-”

“I like what I saw a lot better.” Zazzalil saves herself, Jemilla gives a half-hearted shrug. “I’ve never seen you dance before, why is that?”

“Because I’m… teaching?” She points out, though Zazz can sense the hesitation. “It’s not like I’m any good, anyway.”

“Are you kidding?” Zazz exclaims. “You could be like… professional or something! Why the hell aren’t you?”

“I’m just not. Let’s get home.” Jemilla suddenly snaps away her eyes. “You grab your stuff and meet me outside; I’ll lock up.”

Zazzalil is shocked by the sudden change in subject, but she doesn’t question. So she gathers her stuff and grudgingly waits outside as she’s told. It’s getting closer to winter, and the wind howls harshly, her hair flies all over the place. Five minutes later, Jemilla emerges from the building. 

“Lets go,” Her voice is as cold as the air. “I’m gonna get an early night tonight.”

“Early night? Babe, it’s almost ten o’clock.” Zazzalil smirks, earning a glare. “Kidding!”

  
  


When they get home, Zazzalil heads straight to her room. But something catches her eyes. It’s those damn photos. It’s almost like a timeline, or a scrapbook, glued to the wall. Dance, concerts, competitions, school, college, more concerts. Shows. Something is strange, though. There's an awkward skip. It’s like she went from working in a company to teaching in a studio. What the hell happened?

“Hey Jemilla, I wanna talk to you about something.” She starts cautiously, remembering how she snapped when she bought it up earlier. 

“Is it how hard I’m pushing the kids? I know, but they need it-”

“No. I wanna know why you stopped dancing.” Demanding as she sounds, she needs answers. She isn’t sure how willing Jemilla is to reveal, however.

“I… I’m not-”

“I’m going to be real with you; judging by these pictures, it was never your dream to run a dance studio at twenty-nine.” Zazzalil is tired of her hiding. 

“It could have been!” Jemilla fires back, defensive in the blink of an eye. “I’m not even that good anyway. Not anymore, at least.”

“Not anymore? What are you talking about?” Zazzalil remembers Clark. “Is this about Clark? The one you used to work with?”

“No! Why would it be?” Jemilla answers a little too quickly.

“You’re jealous of him!” Both of their voices are slightly raised, Zazzalil can sense her discomfort in the argument. 

“I am not!”

“Then what is the problem?”

“I’m not allowed to dance anymore!” Jemilla shouts, Zazzalil looks taken aback. That wasn’t the answer she was expecting. Her jaw hangs open, confusion painted over her face. 

“What do you mean? I saw you-”

“I wasn’t going full out. I can’t.”

“Why?” Zazzalil is well aware she is poking her sensitive spots, but she can’t stop now.

“I was injured.”

“One injury took you out for good?” Zazzalil strides forward, still puzzled.

“Two, technically. When I was twelve, I tore my ACL. I made a full recovery, I was just told to be careful.” Jemilla’s voice cracks in a way that makes Zazzalil’s heart break. “Then, I think seven years ago? I was rehearsing. It was leading up to a show, with one of my biggest roles.

“I was having some achilles problems, but I was pushing through it. Clark, My old partner and I were doing a lift. He was having some grip trouble, he put me down a little too hard, It tore my ACL again. As I was going down, I snapped my achilles as well.”

“Holy shit.” Zazzalil’s ankles feel weak at the mere thought of how painful that would have been. How expensive it would have been.

“I also found out at the hospital I dislocated my knee.” Jemilla explains. She appears far away, reminiscent. But she scowls too. “They told me that I will never fully recover, and if I did, I would be out of practise.”

“That’s awful!” She can see why she was so spiritless with Clark, though it wasn’t all his fault. 

“Yeah. But it’s in the past. There’s nothing I can do.” Jemilla laughs it off, feeling better having taken the weight off her shoulders.

“Is that why you see that physio so often?” 

“Yes. That, and she works for us, so.” Jemilla takes hold of Zazzalil’s hand. “Enough chat, let’s go off to bed?” 

“Sure.”

**Author's Note:**

> i don't expect anyone to know much of what went on but i hope you enjoy anyway!!
> 
> please leave kudos and a comment, they are much appreciated.
> 
> feel free to follow my tumblr (same username)
> 
> this was originally going to be longer, and i had plans for what each character did/taught but they never played out. lmk if you wanna hear them or something lmao.
> 
> thank you!


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